


Spinning Arrows

by bluebeholder



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Everybody Lives, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Suitcase Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 09:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14871549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder
Summary: People have arrows on their wrists which point toward their soulmate. Jacob's never wanted one, but stumbles across him anyway, in a subway tunnel in New York.Not long after, they meet again as if for the first time.





	Spinning Arrows

**Author's Note:**

> After much thought, I have decided to get out of my shell and write an expansion on a short snippet that I posted originally in Schrodinger’s Stories. Although the original snippet is at the beginning for context, I’ve greatly expanded the concept and pushed things forward. Thank you, message_from_Anarres, for your enabling!
> 
> All aboard the canoe: we’re going sailing.
> 
> No no, I think I’m dragging you all on board a little tiny…coracle. It’s a fucking duck-shaped floatie amid an armada of battleships. 
> 
> This is the THIRD fic in the tag for this ship.

Jacob never wanted a soulmate. He was pretty glad, when he met Queenie. She didn’t have a soul mark at all, and his arrow sure wasn’t pointed at her. It would be good to date her, maybe marry her. He genuinely likes her, ain’t meant to be with her. It’s his choice, and he likes it that way.

He can’t help noticing that his arrow’s going wild lately. Spinning, whirling around. He’s learned to ignore it, even as it’s gone wilder and wilder since he met Newt. (It never seems to know just what to do when they’re inside the suitcase.)

But as they head for the subway, running down toward Newt and Tina where they chased the Obscurus, his arrow gets steadier and steadier. Who’s down there?

The President isn’t paying him any attention. There’s a big angry cloud of smoke—with a face, a hurting and agonized—which is taking much more attention. Jacob can’t take his eyes off the Obscurus. It’s mesmerizing.

And then something happens. The Obscurus stops. It turns, midair, and then it moves. It barrels down the tunnel, faster and faster and faster stopping on a dime right in front of…

…Jacob.

A person coalesces out of the smoke, a pale young man with white eyes and a body streaming off into shapeless terror. His clothes are ripped and, on his bare, scarred arm, is an arrow.

Pointing right at Jacob.

Jacob looks down, dragging up his sleeve. His arrow is pointing right at this kid, right at the Obscurus. It’s perfectly steady.

_help me_ , the kid mouths. Jacob reaches out—

And the Aurors open fire.

***

Things have gotten a lot better since Jacob found that suitcase full of silver “Occamy eggshells”. He’s got a bakery now, he’s what you might start to call successful. He can afford a better apartment now, still small but in a better neighborhood.

The only odd thing is that his soulmate arrow never moves anymore. It always points toward one specific place–after a couple weeks of that, Jacob had gone to see out of curiosity where it was. Some subway tunnel. He doesn’t get it but, well, he’d never wanted anything to do with a soulmate anyway.

He’s home late one evening, just sitting down to listen to the Eveready Hour on the radio, when something alarming happens. His soulmate arrow erupts into motion. Spinning in circles wildly, back and forth, and finally halting pointing right at the door. Jacob looks up in alarm, and then–

Someone knocks.

He goes to the door slowly, and whoever’s there knocks again. Quick, frantic. It takes a moment to fumble with the latch, and then Jacob has the door open.

The person on the other side is…sort of not a person at all.

It takes a moment to process, to understand what he’s seeing. Wide white eyes in a terrified young face, a tall frame dressed in rags, streaming off into a cloud of smoke, shifting weirdly at the edges like a smeared painting.

“Help me,” the young man says hoarsely, “help me, please, I don’t have anywhere else to go–”

He holds out one shaking arm, and yes, that is an arrow pointing right at Jacob.

With a sense of finality, Jacob steps back, door wide open. “Come on in,” he says, not sure how he hasn’t had a stroke from shock. “I guess if you ain’t got anywhere else to go you might as well be here.”

***

Jacob has been hiding Credence in his apartment for a week now.

And he’s not entirely sure what to do next.

After he got Credence calmed down—and after Credence stopped turning into smoke—they’d had a real talk. Credence explained who he was, the kid from that Second Salem church, that he was a witch and that he’d been almost killed by wizards in the subway.

“You were there,” Credence insisted.

Jacob doesn’t remember being there. He’s not sure that any of those hazy, dream-like ideas that make his bakery so popular could ever have existed. No—not that he’s not sure. He doesn’t believe.

But then again, he’s got his soulmate sitting at his kitchen table, a soulmate who actually is a wizard, even if he has no control over his magic. Jacob really has to believe.

Credence spends the days curled up on Jacob’s creaky little couch, wrapped in a blanket, with smoke trickling off him and white eyes shut tight. He tries, at least, to be helpful: does dishes tentatively and helps make dinner once or twice. Even when Jacob tells him to sit down and rest, Credence insists that he do his fair share.

They don’t talk about the arrows on their wrists, or the fact that Credence’s has gashes over it like someone tried to cut it out. Jacob wonders about it, but the dark hints he’s given about what went on behind closed doors in Second Salem make a clear enough picture. Jacob guesses that somebody didn’t want Credence to find a way out. So he doesn’t ask.

He does ask about the wizards, the Thursday night after Credence arrives.

“So you said you’re a wizard,” Jacob says.

“I’m—supposed to be,” Credence says. He hunches his shoulders and stares at the table. “I—he said I had magic, and I did in the end. Whether he wanted me to or not.”

“He?”

Credence flinches. “Mr. Graves.”

Something about the name rings the faintest bell in Jacob’s head. “Don’t know him,” he says.

“He’s a very powerful wizard,” Credence says. “He tried—to protect me, I suppose, he made sure I was all right—but in the end he only wanted this thing. In me.”

Jacob fits one more piece into the puzzle. Whatever’s wrong with Credence isn’t natural, maybe, even for a wizard. The word “Obscurial” comes to him one night at two o’clock in the morning. It seems to fit, but Jacob doesn’t know where it came from.

He’s starting to think he knows more than he should. The suitcase full of solid silver “Occamy eggshells,” the beasts parading in his dreams that he makes real in pastry, the strange familiarity of Credence’s Mr. Graves, the word “Obscurial”—all of it feels like it’s part of something Jacob should know.

Something he’s forgotten.

***

Things go on pretty much like this for a fortnight. Jacob gets Credence a haircut and real clothes, and gradually Credence stops turning into smoke. His eyes, though still a little hazy, are a nice shade of brown. After just a few days of Jacob’s cooking, he also stops looking like a coatrack.

“Thank you for all this,” Credence says unexpectedly one early morning. “I can’t repay you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jacob says, caught off-guard as he’s folding an omelet.

Credence shakes his head. “I do,” he says. “I’m trouble, Jacob, I’m dangerous. I’ve thought about it and I think—no, I know—Mr. Graves wanted me for a weapon.”

Jacob brings two plates to the table and sets one in front of Credence. “Weapon or not, you ain’t going anywhere,” he says firmly.

“Why not?” Credence asks, and then pauses. His eyes drift to Jacob’s wrist and snap back up quickly. “Even so, I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“Well, if there’s a risk, it’s one I’m willing to take,” Jacob says. “I’ve done crazier.”

“Like?”

For a long moment, Jacob just has to pause. “Went to war,” he says slowly.

Credence shakes his head. “That’s not crazy,” he says. “Everyone went to war. What did you mean, Jacob? What did you do?”

His eyes are wide and hopeful and scared, and Jacob’s about to let him down. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

It sounds like Jacob just broke Credence’s heart. “I just remember the rain,” he says. “Standing outside the subway in the rain. Don’t know why.”

For a moment, there’s silence in the kitchen. Credence swallows hard, audibly, and looks away out the window, at the gleam of sunlight on the building across the street. “I thought you’d remember me,” he whispers.

“Did we meet?”

“You weren’t just there,” Credence bursts out. “We recognized each other. You reached out to me before they shot me.”

Jacob shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I wish I remembered.”

***

That pretty woman with the golden curls comes back again. Hasn’t been by in two weeks, but Jacob can’t forget her bright, pretty smile. He smiles on instinct when she comes in. She smiles back, but it suddenly fades and she turns away, staring at a tray of pinwheel cookies.

Jacob might have said something, but a man with two children in tow comes up to the counter to pay for a pastry beast, and that takes a few minutes as Jacob packs it up for transport. By the time that Jacob looks up, the woman’s gone. He wonders about it, but puts it out of his mind.

The very next day she’s back, this time with a dark-haired woman who has the same nose and eyes, wearing gray. They bend together over a small display of eclairs, but they’re obviously watching him as they do. Jacob isn’t shy about staring back. This is just odd, and he can’t put the idea out of his head of what Credence had talked about.

Are they wizards?

Jacob doesn’t say anything to Credence. He’s settling in, but still jumping at loud noises and shadows. And in his sleep, he sometimes screams. Jacob gets the sense that saying anything about this might send Credence into a panic, and Jacob doesn’t want that.

And the day after that, the woman with dark hair is back alone. She only stands outside the window staring in for an uncomfortably long time, only briskly marching away when Jacob stares at her for too long. He shakes it off: might just be that he’s getting scrutinized by a woman worried about her sister’s crush on some baker.

But then, two days later, the dark lady’s back with a man nearly as tall as she is, and this visit Jacob can’t shake off. The man is battered and scarred, in prime physical health but leaning on a cane, and carrying himself like one of the soldiers who never came back from the war. His gaze is forbidding and cold, but the woman isn’t remotely put off. She marches—and does this woman march everywhere—right up the counter and buys a pastry, looking Jacob right in the eyes as she does.

All he does is blink, somewhat alarmed.

Her name’s Tina.

She never introduced herself to him.

“Hey, Credence,” Jacob says late that night, apropos of nothing, “I feel like I’m remembering something.”

Credence, perched on the sofa with a newspaper on his lap, jerks upright. “What? What is it?”

“I wasn’t alone in the subway, was I,” Jacob says. He leans on the windowsill and watches the cars going by below. “You remember who was there?”

“There were lots of people,” Credence says. “I mostly remember you. Mr. Graves. Miss Tina.”

Tina.

There was a Tina after all.

And that’s when Jacob spots the man standing in the window of the building across the street. It isn’t unusual, but the man isn’t moving. He’s just standing there, a silhouette. The back of Jacob’s neck prickles. This apartment is definitely being watched.

***

It’s another week before something weird happens at the bakery. Jacob’s packed a suitcase in case they have to leave, though he didn’t tell Credence. It wouldn’t be…kind, not when things are finally getting better for him. Credence managed to go down and sit on the steps of the apartment building, in the alley out back, for a full fifteen minutes yesterday. Jacob’s crazy proud.

He really does like Credence. They get along well. Both of them like to take care of people. They have a similar sense of humor. When Jacob brings home the newspaper, Credence turns out to be a voracious reader. He particularly loves Ripley’s Believe It Or Not, and after Jacob gives him a pair of scissors he starts saving each panel.

“Wasn’t allowed to read these,” Credence says offhandedly one evening, carefully cutting out the panel. “They were evidence of the Devil. I like them and I’m evidence of the Devil, so.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not,” Jacob says. He glances out the window again. The window across the street is empty, but Jacob’s getting the prickling feeling they’re being watched anyway.

Credence looks up at him. “You’ve seen that…thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s just magic,” Jacob says. “I ain’t got the brains to understand it all, but I’m pretty sure that magic ain’t the devil.”

There’s an odd pause. Credence cocks his head a little. “Do you believe that people can change?”

“Yeah,” Jacob says. “Yeah, I do. I sure have. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Credence says. He carefully sets his cut panel aside and folds the newspaper neatly again. “I just worry, is all. I killed people.”

“That’s not you, though,” Jacob says. “It was that thing. The Obscurial, right?”

Credence gives him a faint nod. “It was.”

“Right,” Jacob says. “Then what you’ve got to do is make that thing go away, learn how to use your magic for real. That’s a good change. Might help out.”

“That sounds…reasonable. Are you sure you’re not a wizard?” Credence asks.

“I want to be,” Jacob says.

***

The bakery is about to close late one night when a man slips in the door. He’s tall, red hair, nervous manner, blue coat, suitcase in his hand. He darts a nervous glance around then comes up to the counter. “Jacob Kowalski?” he asks.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Jacob says. “And who’re you?”

“I’m Newt,” the man says, English accent all over every word. “Newt Scamander. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The suitcase keeps drawing Jacob’s eye. “The bakery’s closing in five minutes,” he says. “Might want to hurry?”

“Actually, no—no,” Scamander says. “I’m not here for pastries, though they do look delicious. I’m here for you.”

Jacob leans on the counter and wishes fleetingly he had a pistol or something to pull out. He feels like he’s in danger. “I don’t know you,” he says. “We have a date?”

“I do wish this weren’t so awkward,” Scamander says. He sighs. “You won’t come with me even if I ask, will you?”

“No can do.”

There’s a beat of silence.

The bell jingles as the last customer steps out.

“Have a nice night,” Jacob says, pointedly looking at the door.

“Right.” Scamander picks up the suitcase and turns around, headed for the door. Jacob blinks, and in that blink the man has out a wizard’s wand and is aiming it right at Jacob. “I’m very sorry about this. Stupefy!”

***

There’s a lot of explaining to do, when Jacob wakes up in a suitcase. The blonde bird is there (her name is Queenie and Jacob is smitten on first sight), with ‘Tina,’ and that big man with the cane who just glares and refuses to talk (no one gives his name). And Scamander, who insists that he be called Newt. He shouldn’t be, you know, inside a suitcase, but at the same time it feels familiar. Almost homely. And he recognizes the beasts—the Demiguise, the Erumpet, the Graphorns, the Bowtruckles. Just like they appeared in his dreams.

They sit him down on a rock, all arranged around, while Newt putters about doing minor chores and listening and watching. Jacob feels a little like he’s being cross-examined in court. But at least Queenie is sweet and willing to do most of the explaining.

“…which is why you were Obliviated,” Queenie finishes.

“Sounds like a dream,” Jacob admits. “I thought I had the brains to make something like that up, but I don’t. I know it’s real.”

“And you know where Credence is,” Tina cuts in. She looks so hopeful, biting her lip, but Jacob is still pretty wary.

“Yeah,” he says. “I ain’t taking him to you until I know why you want him. Are you with those…them, the ones that tried to kill him?”

“ _No_ ,” the man with the cane says vehemently. “I wasn’t even there.”

“Newt and I were trying to help,” Tina says.

Queenie is just gazing at him, chin on her hands and stars in her eyes. The back of Jacob’s head itches. “You and me weren’t even…I never drew my wand, sugar.”

Jacob takes a second to think. He still doesn’t remember any of them, except for Tina’s name, and knows nothing more than the tiny things Credence has told him. “Can you prove all this?”

“You just said you couldn’t have dreamt it—” Tina bursts out, but Newt steps in.

“I think I can prove it,” he says. The other three wizards stare at him like he’s lost his mind, and Newt goes on. “I did some testing on the Swooping Evil venom. It modified the memories of the city, but at such a dilution anyone who really examined their memories would get back fragments. That’s why Jacob can dream of the creatures, and get back names. I think with a little work we could bring it all back.”

The man with the cane sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Breaking the law for a No-Maj…I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he mutters.

“You’re doing it for Credence,” Tina fires back.

“Hush!” Queenie hisses.

Jacob is bemused by the exchange, but a suspicion begins to climb up in his mind. He lets it go and looks at Newt. “All right,” he says. “Go on and do it.”

***

Memories come flooding back.

The bank.

A hatching Occamy.

A vault and hitting Newt with a suitcase.

The Murtlap.

Being kidnapped by Tina.

Meeting Queenie.

Seeing the suitcase.

Pursuing the Niffler.

Being chased by the Erumpet.

Emerging from the suitcase into MACUSA.

The cells.

The escape and the flight to find the lost Occamy.

The Obscurus.

Joining the wizards in the subway.

Meeting Credence.

And the rain…

The rain, and forgetting…

***

“Grindelwald replaced me mere days before he made his move,” Graves explains wearily, as they walk through the streets to Jacob’s apartment. It’s dark, and no one pays attention to their little group. “I had been taking care of Credence. I knew he had magic, but I honestly never suspected…”

“Why didn’t you rescue him?” Jacob asks.

Graves shakes his head. “I had no meaningful proof. And with fears running high all over New York, Credence would have been used as a public example of what happens when the law is broken, rather than helped.”

Queenie speaks before Jacob can ask more questions. “Honey, you got to trust us,” she says softly, taking his arm. “Mr. Graves ain’t no threat, and Tina ain’t either. We just want to find Credence and help him.”

“And what, Obliviate me again?” Jacob asks, pausing on a street corner.

“That would be ridiculous,” Newt says. “You’re one of us now.”

“Even if it’s illegal,” Tina says cheerfully.

“It won’t be soon,” Graves says. He steps out into the street and strides across, heedless of any possible traffic. “If you’re Credence’s soulmate I’ll force an exception to Rappaport’s Law.”

Queenie scowls. Her heels click a little more indignantly on the pavement. “Oughta be a lot more exceptions,” she mutters.

“Quite right,” Newt says, and Tina sighs loudly.

Jacob glances down at his wrist. The arrow is still pointing home. “Not going to make him forget me?” he asks Graves.

“You’ve seen what happened to him,” Graves says, looking at Jacob full in the face for the first time. There’s a little bit of disquiet there, but it’s overridden by flat, brutal honesty. “I don’t think even Grindelwald would be able to take Credence’s soulmate away from him again.”

***

Jacob goes in alone, leaving everyone else outside. The plan is to bring Tina in, pretty quick, since Credence knows her. He’s unlikely to explode outright.

When Jacob walks into the apartment, Credence’s face lights up in a beautiful smile. “Evening,” he says, setting down the newspaper. “You were out late…”

“Yeah,” Jacob says. “Got some unexpected company at the bakery.” He pauses, gathers his courage, and asks, “Remember I asked you about Tina?”

Credence stands up slowly. “Did she.”

Jacob glances over his shoulder and, slowly, Tina creeps into the room. “Hi, Credence,” she says.

“You’re here,” Credence says. His voice is faint and his eyes, not at all white, are wide.

“I’m here,” Tina confirms. “I couldn’t just—couldn’t just leave you, you know.”

Credence starts forward a little and hesitates. He looks at Jacob and Jacob shrugs. “Your call,” he says. “I wouldn’t have brought her here if I didn’t trust her.”

That seems to settle the matter, and in a moment Tina and Credence are hugging each other. It’s pretty sweet. They could almost pass for siblings.

After a few minutes of Credence and Tina talking at the kitchen table, once they finally sit down, Jacob clears his throat. “Credence, there’s someone else who’d like to see you,” he says.

Credence looks away from Tina. “Someone else…? The man with the blue coat?”

“Newt’s here,” Tina confirms, though that’s not who Jacob was thinking about. Jacob’s still not sure he trusts Graves, so he keeps his mouth shut. “Should I go get him…?”

“Please,” Credence says.

Newt comes into the apartment quietly, offering a smile and a handshake when he sees Credence sitting at the table. Credence stands to shake hands, but sits down again in the chair closest to Jacob. His shoulders are a little bit hunched again and Jacob feels a wash of protectiveness.

“It’s nice to meet you in person,” Newt says.

“It is,” Credence says. “I don’t remember you much, but…”

“He’s a good friend,” Jacob says, and grins at Newt, who smiles back. Feels nice to have so many friends, all in one place.

Newt has a dozen questions for Credence, which Credence seems happy to answer. About the nature of the Obscurus, how it’s been learning to control the thing, and so on. Credence relaxes little by little, though he sticks close to Jacob, and Jacob is okay with that.

“Credence,” Tina says, when Newt’s flood of questions runs out, “there’s something you should know. About the last few days…before.”

“What?” Credence asks warily. His eyes flick to Jacob, and Jacob nods reassuringly. He knows what’s coming and he only hopes that it will go over well.

Tina sighs and leans forward, with her elbows on the table. “We oughta talk about the man who attacked Newt in the subway.”

The room gets just a little dimmer and the shadows do odd things. “Mr. Graves,” Credence says, a little darkly. “What about him?”

“That wasn’t Mr. Graves,” Tina says. She forges forward, staving off questions: “The dark wizard Grindelwald stole his identity and imprisoned him a few days before everything went bad. We found him, we got him back, and he’d very much like to see you. If you’re willing, Credence, I mean—if not it’s all right, but we’ve found a way to keep you safe and bring you into wizarding society.”

“And you too, Jacob,” Newt says. He smiles. “You are, after all, one of us.”

“Yeah,” Jacob says, swelling a little with happiness and pride. “It’ll be nice to be able to really go out with Queenie.”

“Queenie?” Credence asks, turning to Jacob with a bemused look. “Do you have a girl?”

“Maybe will soon,” Jacob says. He winks.

Credence laughs. “Good luck!”

There’s a flabbergasted silence from Newt and Tina. Jacob looks at them, and they’re both staring with eyes wide as saucers. They look at each other, and then back at Jacob and Credence. “But aren’t you soulmates?” Tina asks.

“Yeah?” Jacob says. “Ain’t giving up on your sister, though.”

“I’m—interested in someone else,” Credence says uncomfortably, and a piece clicks into place. A whole lot makes sense, and Jacob shakes his head. So that’s why Graves had been so brusque with him.

Newt elbows Tina. He’s recovered his composure. “It’s not unheard-of for soulmates to choose other romantic partners,” he says, in the tones of a lecture.

“But I thought—” Tina starts, and glances down at her wrist. Jacob can’t help a smile when Newt blushes: they must be pointing right at each other. “All right. Queenie hasn’t got one anyway. She can deal with all of this.”

Jacob stands up. “Should I bring ’em in?” he asks.

“Wait, now?” Credence asks, looking up at him.

“Yeah,” Jacob says. “Get it done fast, you know?” Credence still looks uncomfortable, and Jacob squeezes his bony shoulder reassuringly. “Ain’t planning to let anything happen.”

Queenie’s holding Graves’ hand when they come into the overcrowded apartment. Credence and Graves don’t run to each other, just look at each other for a long moment, and then sit side by side at the table. Jacob’s not sure what he expected from this particular reunion, but it sure makes him wonder what the point of soulmates is anyway when Credence looks at Graves like that.

***

After all’s said and done, Jacob is the second No-Maj in America who’s an exception to Rappaport’s Law. He can’t believe he’s sharing the status with Al Capone, of all people, but he wears the badge proudly. They gave the gangster the status because of his habit of hiring wizards into his gang, and dealing with the problem is more difficult than just making Capone a self-policing exception.

But there are just two of them, and it makes for notoriety. It really seems like every other wizard comes to the bakery, just to gawk. He doesn’t mind. Life’s gotten real good. He’s still got his bakery, his memories, his girlfriend, and his soulmate. Jacob really can’t ask for more.

Credence has a job at MACUSA now, where he can learn better magic, and be a little safer from the outside world. He works in the Misuse of No-Maj Artifacts office. Every night he’s full of stories that make them both howl with laughter.

And it really is every night, or almost. Credence still lives in the apartment with Jacob. Neither of them can really imagine living with anyone else, even if Jacob’s out dancing with Queenie every other night and Credence often stays late at MACUSA to spend time with Graves. It’s nice to still sit together after dinner, reading the newspaper or a novel, listening to the radio, and talking. Something about them just clicks, and no one can really change it.

“Funny, I always thought being soulmates would be a lot louder than this,” Jacob says one evening as he turns off the radio.

“I never did,” Credence says. He sets aside this evening’s panel of Ripley’s Believe It Or Not and folds up the newspaper. “I’m not a very loud person.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Jacob says. He leans back in his chair. “What kind of crazy happy ending is this, anyway? Sometimes I think I’m dreaming.”

“I don’t think I’m dreaming,” Credence says. He draws up his knees and smiles. “I haven’t got the brains to dream this up.”

Well, that’s really fair. Jacob doesn’t have the brains to do that either. And, magic or not, he’s not taking any of this for granted. He might not get to be a wizard, but he’s got something better. He’s got friends coming over for dinner tomorrow night, a date with his girl, a soulmate who fits neatly into all the weird empty places in Jacob’s life, a successful business, and the chance to live around magic.

What more does anyone want?


End file.
